When one thing breaks, everything else thinks it’s OK to break too. Well, not everything. But it sure seems that way.
Two weeks ago the emergency brake on the Ranger stuck. I backed into the turnaround, but when I tried to go forward, the motor stalled out. I tried again. The truck wouldn’t budge—except to go backward. After three or four attempts, I figured it was the emergency brake. It had been acting up for months, the dash light coming on while I was driving, even though the brake wasn’t on. This time, however, the dash light wasn’t on, but the brake was. The problem turned out to be a cable, which hubby replaced.
But when he came into the house that evening after fixing the emergency brake, I knew something was wrong. After being married to the man for 37 years, I can tell he’s upset by the set of his mouth.
“The four-wheel-drive’s out,” he said.
“That’s no surprise,” I said. “It’s been acting up for months.”
I always knew when he’d had the truck in four-wheel-drive because it stayed on—kind of—even though the knob on the dash was turned to two-wheel-drive and there was no light on the dash indicating it was on. I felt it in the steering and the way it rumbled going down the road.
The next day the lake effect snow machine decided to crank up and stay cranked up. Lake effect snow means not only snow flying sideways, but wind-caused drifts. I got stuck twice this week. The first time I got myself out. The second time my son had to pull the truck out. But not to worry. After two days the wind died down and the lane was ripe for the snow blower. Except it broke, too.
So here we are, between two snowstorms, with no four-wheel-drive and no snow blower. But I did get a song out of it, to the tune of “Jungle Bells.”
Dashing through the snow in a broken four-wheel-drive.
Through the drifts we go, sliding side to side.
Skidding 'round the turn gave me such a fright;
It’s no fun to navigate these icy roads tonight!
Oh, slip and slide, slip and slide, tires spinning 'round—
Up the hill, around the curve, all the way to town.
Oh! Slip and slide, slip and slide, it’s a scary ride.
All I want for Christmas is a brand new four-wheel-drive!
I sing it all the time. It keeps my spirits up and reminds me good things are often born of difficulty. At the edge of discouragement, on the brink of despair, I found inspiration.
A new four-wheel-drive this year for us is a financial impossibility. But next year . . . I can always hope—right?
As I light the third Advent candle, Father, I think of the many things in life that need fixed. You sent Your Son to make the biggest fix of all—to fix a broken relationship between You and us. Thank you. Amen.
Special-Tea: Read Isaiah 61:1-2; Matthew 11:4-5